Home
by sophielovesmusicandwriting
Summary: The one in which Floki is very obvious about his distrust, Athelstan is haunted by his crucifixion and Ragnar is the voice of reason.


**So I watched both seasons of Vikings last night and then this morning I came up with this idea and it didn't leave me alone anymore.**

**This is obviously my first time writing for this fandom so I hope I got the characters at least a little right.**

**I am sorry for any mistakes I may have mad. English isn't my first lanuage so the chance of there being mistakes is higher.**

**Thank you for reading my fanfiction :)**

**~ Sophie**

* * *

It felt a bit strange to be home again…home.

Athelstan could only shake his head at himself when he thought about his petty reasons for giving this up, his home, his family.

Now sitting by the fire surrounded by the others, he found he had seldom felt so content. Even the pain coming from his scars couldn't dampen his good mood.

"Well, well, the priest has returned." A voice said above him and Athelstan was startled out of his thoughts.

Floki sat down next to him and studied him intensively. Athelstan returned his gaze head-on. He had always known that Floki was wary of him but now the other man's voice had a hostile tone to it that made Athelstan wonder if all the others were regarding him as a traitor.

"Hello Floki." He said calmly. The Viking only continued looking at him.

Athelstan frowned inwardly but didn't say anything else. The other man had been behaving strangely since Athelstan had returned to the Viking camp. He had tried to stay as far away from Floki during their voyage home but now it seemed as if Floki had something to say to him – and Athelstan wasn't sure if he wanted to hear it.

Trying to occupy himself with something, Athelstan reached his arm out to grab a cup of ale. However, quick as a snake about to kill its prey, Floki's hand shot out and grabbed his wrist where his arm ring was marking Athelstan as one of their own.

"I'm not sure you really deserve this." The boat maker whispered quietly but even over the loud voices around them Athelstan could still hear him.

The words made him freeze. With his wrist still in Floki's grasp he answered: "Ragnar seems to think so."

"Ragnar is unreasonable when it comes to you. He has been ever since we first came upon you."

Athelstan finally looked at him and scowled. "Whether or not I belong here is not your decision to make, Floki!" he hissed.

The other man was about to say something when Ragnar appeared before them, having just left his injured brother.

"What are you doing?" He asked Floki and there was a glint of wariness in his eyes. He hadn't forgotten how badly Floki sometimes treated Athelstan.

Floki quickly grinned and, with a swift movement, he turned Athelstan's hand so that his scar was clearly visible.

"I was just asking our priest how he came by these wounds."

Again Athelstan turned to glare at him and this time he snatched his hand away.

Ragnar frowned. He was pretty certain he knew how his Englishman had gotten his injuries.

"Well?" Floki asked Athelstan when the other man refused to answer. "They don't look like battle wounds."

Ragnar was about to say something when Athelstan hissed: "That is of no concern for you!"

From where he was standing, Ragnar could see how Athelstan's beautiful face was twisted into a mask of anger. The smaller man's whole body was tense and he looked ready to jump.

Beside him Floki merely grinned.

"I think they hung you on a cross, much like your god. Seems to me as though even your god has left you." The boat maker provoked.

Athelstan's whole body froze. He felt as though his blood had run cold and even though quite some time had passed since he had been crucified, he could still feel a phantom like pain at the thought of it. His hands and feet ached and then and there Athelstan wanted to attack Floki.

With all the strength he could muster, he shot up as if hit by a lightning bolt.

"Don't ever talk about my god again, pagan!" He hissed and leaned down dangerously close to Floki's face.

Ragnar had never seen him this dangerous, not even in the midst of battle.

Before either of the two Vikings could react, Athelstan straightened up again and without another word he left the warm house and stepped out into the cool, dark night.

It hit him like a bucket of ice water and cleared the dizziness from his mind. This wasn't how he had imagined his first night back home.

Still haunted by his memories, he leaned against a house wall nearby and massaged his aching palms. At times like this, when his hands hurt so much he could barely move them, he wondered if he would ever live without this pain again.

A broad hand on his shoulder pulled him out of his dark brooding thoughts. He turned his head and was met with one of Ragnar's concerned stares.

"What's wrong?" The Viking asked directly and Athelstan sometimes hated that the other man could get him to answer so easily with just one of his stares.

"He distrusts me. He thinks I'm a traitor and that I don't deserve this." He raised his left arm and the arm ring gleamed in the moonlight. "Much less your trust." The smaller man finished.

"And do you believe what he says to be true?"

"What?! No!" Athelstan answered hastily.

"Then why do you care what he says?" Ragnar asked him and he could see how much the answer surprised the other man.

"Be…because he's one of your most valued friends and the others listen to what he says." Athelstan managed.

"I believe you when you say that you're not a traitor, I think you belong to us and I gave you this." Ragnar tapped lightly against the arm ring.

"I'm the Earl and in this case the others have to trust my judgment. Besides, there are many among us who have accepted you as one of us long ago. Even before I gave you the arm ring."

Athelstan gazed at him when he said those words and he had a thoughtful frown on his face.

They stood beside one another for a while. Both silent, one of them thoughtful, the other content to have his Englishman back.

Athelstan relaxed after a while and Ragnar took that as a sign that the other man understood and believed his words.

Carefully, as to not drive him away again, the Viking grabbed Athelstan's left wrist. The arm ring looked right against Athelstan's pale skin, he thought.

Then slowly he turned the other man's hand and pulled it to him so that he could examine the scar in the middle of Athelstan's palm.

"Was he right? About you being nailed to a cross?" Ragnar asked and his voice was unusually quiet.

Athelstan was filled with warmth at the thought of how careful Ragnar was with him. He sighed and finally nodded.

"I betrayed my faith, my beliefs, my god. They declared me an apostate and…" He stopped when images of his crucifixion flashed through his mind.

"They crucified me, just like Jesus Christ was crucified. King Ecbert saved me before they could give me a mortal wound. All I have left from that day are my memories and these." He tapped with his right hand against the scar on his left one.

Ragnar looked at him and for some reason Athelstan couldn't meet his eyes. With his head bowed he waited until Ragnar would stop looking at him so intently.

His head shot up in surprise when he felt a kiss being placed on his scar and he gasped. Ragnar took his other hand and kissed the scar there too.

"These" He began and lightly caressed the scars with his thumbs. "are battle scars. Ones you did not deserve but which show your bravery and honor. May everyone who gazes at them realize your strength and admire you for having survived." He finished with kissing each scar again.

Athelstan stood completely still and stared at Ragnar. There was so much he wanted to say but he feared that if he opened his mouth, his many emotions would get the best of him.

Ragnar seemed to know what he wanted to say though and engulfed the smaller man in a hug. Pressing a kiss against Athelstan's temple he muttered: "You're home now. Safe and home."

And Athelstan believed him. Safe in Ragnar's arms, he completely relaxed and closed his eyes.

Yes. He was finally home.


End file.
